


Sweetheart

by imaginationtherapy



Series: Shameless [5]
Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Jakes Didn't Leave, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, No Angst, Peter Jakes Didn't Leave Oxford, Slice of Life, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, and cuddles, and hugs, and kisses, but here we are, fluff and implied smut, jarse squad, just fluff, just our poor boys getting some down time, many slices actually, never thought I would tag my works with that, no regrets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-01-31 13:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18592276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginationtherapy/pseuds/imaginationtherapy
Summary: A collection of fluffy one-shots. Literally just these boys having some cuddles and domestic moments.Each chapter is a stand alone one-shot. They come from various points throughout my little cannon-divergent AU. Each chapter will include a note for its proper placement in the series.





	1. This Chapter Has Moved

Hi all! 

 

This chapter has moved to become Chapter One of <a href="<https://archiveofourown.org/works/19931917/chapters/47195791>">Marionette Dressed in Blue </a>. I ended up writing a second chapter to this, and at that point it deserved its own fic. The first chapter remains unchanged, so if you want to read it, you can find it there. The following chapters are explicit, just so you know. :D


	2. So Show Me Family (part one)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jakes is sick, and Morse takes care of him.
> 
> Alternatively, cuddles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a need for cuddles, and [ guardainoffun ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/guardianoffun/pseuds/guardianoffun) suggested a sicfic.
> 
> This is somewhere before [ Treat You Better ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18218207/chapters/43100324) and after [ Trying to do it Right ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18592276/chapters/44076847) (from this collection.)

Peter Jakes was ill; it was time to admit that. He had been fighting valiantly against the ugly cold that had been circulating about the station, but it had finally gotten the better of him. Yesterday had been filled with sneezes and a progressively more violent headache. So far, his night had been filled with feverish dreams and an aching body. He had tossed and turned for hours, worried each time that he would wake the figure sleeping peacefully next to him. Finally, well after midnight, he decided to slip out of bed. Even if he couldn’t sleep on the couch, at least he wouldn’t disturb Morse. The man had to work in the morning. Jakes, well, he wasn’t going in like this.

Jakes curled up on the couch, miserably tucking Morse’s knitted throw about his shoulders. It was cold in the room. He knew he should probably get up and get another blanket, but he was too exhausted to care. As he closed his eyes, he wondered what it must be like to have someone about to fuss over you when you were sick. He’d never known. His childhood had been devoid of anything remotely resembling a family. If he was lucky, he just got ignored by most of the adults around him. As he had grown older, he’d distanced himself from most people. If he brought a girl home, it was just for the night. They never stuck around long, and that was fine with him. He was happier on his own. He could take care of himself. But now, in the middle of another sneeze, he almost wished he’d had the luxury--somewhere-- of someone to look after him. 

A low, rich voice startled him awake. “Peter? It’s freezing out here. What are you doing?”

Jakes opened his eyes, blearily staring into Morse’s concerned face. Morse had crouched down in front of Jakes, staring at him with anxious eyes. He rested a warm hand on Jakes’ shoulder. Jakes coughed, trying to clear his throat. 

“I didn’t want to wake you,” he croaked. 

Morse’s smiled warmly at him, his hand rubbing a comforting circle on Jakes shoulder. “So you decided to come freeze instead? Precisely what would you have done had I come out here in the dead of night?” Jakes glared at him. Well, he tried to. Morse grinned. “Exactly.” He leaned over and kissed Jakes lightly on the forehead. Jakes leaned into Morse’s warmth. He did _not_ whimper. “I’ll make us a cup of tea. Stay here, okay?” Morse whispered.

Jakes harrumphed and glared up at Morse again. But he gave him a slight smile and nodded. Morse ruffled his hand through Jakes hair and disappeared. Jakes rolled his eyes; Morse had an unnatural affection for Jakes unstyled hair. It drove Jakes crazy. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get the pounding in his head to recede. His eyes flew open, however, when he suddenly found himself enveloped in warmth.

Morse stood over him, a soft smile on his lips. “It’s cold, Peter,” he explained, a faint hint of the patronizing tone Jakes adored (or hated, depending on precisely how Morse used it).

Jakes glanced rather stupidly at the comforter that Morse had placed over him. It was the green one from Morse’s room. He glanced back up at Morse, returning his smile. “Thanks.” Jakes shifted his shoulders a bit, burrowing into the warm nest. 

Morse laughed and disappeared into the kitchen. Jakes closed his eyes again, and found himself strangely calmed by the sounds of Morse rummaging about. Morse hummed softly to himself, likely some opera piece, and Jakes heard the rattle of tea cups. It was a peaceful collection of sounds, a symbol of comfort and safety that Jakes realized he had come to enjoy. It sounded like… _home._ Jakes’ eyes blinked open in surprise, and he tilted his head so that he could see into the kitchen. He could just make out Morse’s lean form, clothed in faded flannel pyjamas.

_Home._ He rolled the word around in his head carefully, trying not to knock it against the parts that were already throbbing. Jakes had never really had a home, not in the common sense of the word. He had landed in a few okay bedsits, and once he made sergeant, he had rented a nice flat. But none of them had been _home._ They’d all been rather sterile, a place to land. Since Morse had moved in, since they’d begun sharing a bed, Jakes realized that their little flat had begun to feel like home. 

Morse returned a moment later, and gave Jakes a questioning look when he caught the older man’s rather soppy smile. Jakes shuffled upright and gingerly took the offered teacup. 

“What are you looking so pleased about, Peter Jakes?” Morse teased, sliding in next to Jakes. He picked up the edge of the blanket and slid under. Jakes waited until Morse was comfortable (he did _not_ snuggle in closer to Morse...okay, maybe he did. The man was _warm._ ) before replying. “You, Dev. You and tea.”

Morse raised his eyebrows and took a sip of his tea. “I may not be as skilled as you are in the kitchen, but think I can make a decent cup of tea, thank you very much,” he replied archly.

Jakes was pretty sure that, had his head not felt like it was stuffed with cotton, he should have been able to come up with something about Morse in the kitchen that would make the younger man blush. Unfortunately, all he could do was sneeze. Morse made a sympathetic sound and handed Jakes a box of tissues. 

“Your tea is fine, Dev.” Jakes finally managed. “I was thinking...I like…” Jakes’ voice trailed off, his forehead creasing in concentration. Why was it so hard to think when one was sick? It was just as well he wasn’t going to work in the morning. He would probably end up accusing Strange of some break in, or sneezing all over some piece of evidence. “I like having you here.” It sounded lame, especially coming from him. He was Peter Jakes, damn it, renowned womanizer. Certainly he could come up with a better line for the man sitting next to him, the man who meant the world to him?

Morse, however, didn’t seem to notice Jakes’ lack of eloquence. He rather looked as if Jakes had handed him a complete volume of crossword puzzles. His eyes softened, face melting into one of his rare, unguarded smiles. He glanced into his teacup and then sideways at Jakes. “Really?” he whispered.

Jakes leaned a little closer to Morse. “Really, Dev.” He reached out and kissed Morse lightly on the cheek. “Never had someone to come and make me tea when I was sick before.”

Morse’s smile grew wider. He stared at Jakes a moment longer before dropping his gaze back to his tea. Jakes had to grin, even if it hurt his head. He’d managed to render Endeavour Morse speechless. That was something worth celebrating. So he sneezed again. 

Morse gave him a concerned look. “Finish your tea, Peter. Then we’re getting you back to bed. It’s still too cold out here, for you.” His look softened into something uncharacteristically close to fond as he took another sip of his tea.

Jakes obliged, drinking his tea silently while leaning up against Morse. The sat there in silence for a few moments, each enjoying their tea and using each other’s warmth as a shield to keep out the cold. Once they had finished, Morse collected their cups and deposited them in the sink.

He returned and offered his hand to Jakes. Jakes glared at it grumpily.

“I am not an invalid, Dev.”

Morse snorted. “Could have fooled me, Peter.” He reached down and grasped Jakes by the shoulders. “Up you get, Peter Jakes.”

Jakes let himself be hauled upright, using his free hands to clutch the blanket around his shoulders. It was _cold._ But as Morse started to steer him towards their room, he balked. “I’ll keep you up, Dev. You’ve got to be at work in a few hours.” 

Morse turned to face him, eyes somber. “Peter Jakes, I’ll have you know I’ve wandered into the nick with no sleep before, and no one was the wiser.” He held his finger to Jakes’ lips when Jakes tried to protest. His eyes met Jakes, the sincerity in them burning itself into Jakes’ memory. “I don’t sleep, Peter, unless...unless you’re there next to me.” He gave Jakes a shy half-smile before turning away. His hand remained on Jakes back, though, all the way to their bed.

Once Morse was satisfied that Jakes was safely settled beneath the blankets once again, he climbed himself into bed as well. Jakes smiled as Morse slid close to Jakes, draping one arm over Jakes’ chest. Morse’s head came to rest on Jakes shoulder, his curls gently brushing Jakes’ cheek. Jakes tilted his head towards them, reveling in the silky-softness of them. He closed his eyes, letting Morse’s steady breathing distract him from the ache behind his eyes.

“Don’t leave again, Peter,” Morse mumbled, his breath ghosting over Jakes’ collarbone. His arm tightened around Jakes’ chest possessively. “You’ll only get worse, and then I’ll have to deal with you. We’ll run out of tea too fast.”

The way Morse’s voice sounded, homey and caring and almost motherly, sparked something warm in Jakes’ chest. He curled towards Morse, delighting in the other man’s warm presence. And that’s when Jakes realized: he may not have had a family, he may have had a wicked childhood, he may have never known before what it was like to be cared for. But somehow he’d found a home in this awkward, acerbic, and utterly adorable man he’d invited into his heart. He’d found someone who cared for him. He wasn’t alone any more.

Jakes wrapped his fingers around Morse’s wrist, tugging the man’s arm up. He placed a light kiss to Morse’s hand and closed his eyes. Maybe he could get some sleep tonight, wrapped up in the arms of the man he called home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Jakes returns the favor when Morse falls ill.


End file.
